


The Thing with Feathers

by lyryk (s_k)



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Gen, Merlin Holidays
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-30
Updated: 2016-11-30
Packaged: 2018-09-03 09:01:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8706121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/s_k/pseuds/lyryk
Summary: For the prompt "AU where Morgause survives and seeks out Merlin, after Arthur dies."





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Celinarose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Celinarose/gifts).



> Hope is the thing with feathers—   
> That perches in the soul—
> 
> \-- Emily Dickinson

“Finally,” Morgause said. She was sitting at the rickety table in the hovel that her sister had once lived in, carelessly peeling an apple with a sharp silver blade.

“Finally?” Merlin said. He wasn’t looking at her. His gaze darted around the cabin skittishly, as though it were large enough for anyone to be hiding in a dark corner, waiting to pounce on him.

“You can relax,” she said, swinging her legs off the table, boots hitting the floor with a thud. Merlin winced at the sound. “Jumpy, aren’t we?”

“Cut the act, Morgause. Why have you led me here?” 

“You’re a smart boy, Merlin. I’m sure you’ll figure it out eventually.”

“I’m not a boy.”

There was no heat in his tone at all. There was almost no tone at all to his voice, which was as lacklustre as the dull blue of his eyes. He looked even taller and thinner than when she’d last seen him, his cheekbones high and sharp.

“I’ll bet you aren’t,” she said, spearing a piece of apple with her blade and sliding it into her mouth. He was right. It was an act, all of it, designed to hide the truth of the fact that her sister’s death had cut into her insides as though they were ribbons. And here was Morgana’s killer, standing in front of Morgause with his hands useless at his sides, looking like a lost little boy. She hadn’t expected that. “I’ll bet,” she continued, gathering together the words that would hurt the most, “you haven’t felt like much of a boy ever since you lost your precious Arthur.”

They were words meant to scathe, but Merlin appeared to be beyond scathing. “What do you want, Morgause?” His tone was still flat, his hands still not up to the task of finding the energy to clench into fists, his fingers curled loosely against his palms.

“Right to business? No 'hellos', no 'how are yous', no 'how in the world did you survive'? Is that how they teach you to greet old friends at Camelot?”

Merlin simply shrugged, moving to sit on the cot with its threadbare covers as though the weight he was carrying were suddenly too much for his frame. His hair was unkempt and his tunic unwashed, stubble covering his cheeks and jaw. He reeked of grief, and Morgause’s anger flared.

“You seem to be labouring under the delusion that you’re the only one who’s lost someone,” she said. “At least you aren’t sitting here looking at the murderer of the one person who mattered more to you than anyone else.”

He looked up at that. Morgause tensed, unsure how she would respond if she saw sympathy in his eyes. It was the last thing she wanted from her sister’s killer.

There was nothing in his eyes. “It was war,” he said. “She was the enemy.”

“You made her the enemy. All she ever did at Camelot was protect you.”

“I don’t deny it.”

“You betrayed her.”

“I did.”

“Is that all you have to say?”

“What else would you have me say?”

“Is that why you’re here? To tell me what I want to hear?”

“I’m here because you wanted me to be here. Now tell me why.”

Understanding flared in Morgause’s mind, as sudden as a wind. “You know.”

“I heard.”

“From whom? Gwen?”

“She’s still my friend. Even though.” He paused, and the thought went unspoken. “You really thought she’d keep it from me?”

“So that’s what brings you here. Hope.”

“Why did you tell her?” Merlin went on as though Morgause hadn’t spoken. “Why involve us at all?”

“I think you already know.”

“You aren’t powerful enough to do the spell on your own. You need me.”

“I need my sister back. I need my sister alive. You’re nothing but a means to an end.”

“I’m well aware of that, believe me.”

“So you’ll help?”

“You know my conditions.” 

She knew his conditions. Bring them both back, or he wouldn’t help. “The journey will be long,” she said in lieu of a response. “And harsh.”

“I’m aware.”

“We may not succeed.”

“I know.”

“We’ll need supplies.”

“The Queen will provide us with everything we need. Horses. Knights.”

“We don’t need knights. Or horses.”

“How do you propose to get there? Fly?” Sarcasm suited him, Morgause decided. 

“As a matter of fact, yes.”

 

—

 

 _Magic is a frightening thing_ , Morgana had said a lifetime ago. She’d still been learning, still been afraid of herself. _Sometimes I’m afraid of it. Of myself. I don’t know this person I’m becoming._

She’d always been like that. Afraid of hurting her father, her brother, her friends. Never was able to live up to her potential. She’d let them kill her in the end; she’d died rather than kill them. This time, Morgause would help her. This time she wouldn’t die, alone and friendless and betrayed. This time her sister would have her back.

This time, Morgause would do right by her sister.

 

—

 

Dawn was never Morgause’s favourite hour of the day, but hope was a treacherous thing that could twist anything into a deceptively beautiful shape. Aithusa’s body was strong beneath her, the white dragon’s wings spread as far as their disfigurement would allow. The dragon loved to fly. So did Morgause.

Several metres away, Merlin was on Kilgharrah’s back. He still wasn’t talking much, but on the few occasions that they made eye contact, Morgause could see what she felt reflected in his eyes.

 _I came back,_ Morgause thought to herself. _I came back, and so can she_. If she said the words aloud, Merlin would probably correct her. _They_ , he’d say. Maybe the thought would be as reassuring to him as it was to Morgause, but Morgause wasn’t in the habit of trying to make other people feel better, especially when they happened to be her sister’s murderer. 

“We’ll see her again,” Morgause said to Aithusa, leaning forward, letting the wind carry her words to the dragon’s ear. It was a promise she intended to keep.


End file.
